Strainers, stays and tying off: A townie’s guide to fences

Whether you’re keeping things out or in, the art of farm fencing is best left to the experts, for everyone’s sakes.

There’s a standout memory my old boss has of the years I spent working on his Canterbury farm. In it, I’m balanced precariously atop a 2m deer fence, having once again failed to work the dark magic required to open the gate.

‘‘That was bloody dangerous, don’t do it again,’’ he yelled on my descent, then quashed what I was sure was concern for my wellbeing. ‘‘Fences are f ...... expensive, you idiot,’’ he said, stomping off to the tractor.

Fences ARE expensive, though until I moved to the country any personal knowledge had been limited to the demarcation of suburban boundaries. There, a failed fence might see my dog wander into danger; here on the farm it could see a 300-strong stampede heading up the West Coast highway.

It’s scenarios like the latter that highlight the sobering reality faced by farmers. Tens of thousands of kilometres of fences are said to have been destroyed by Cyclone Gabrielle, with the cost of repair estimated to run into hundreds of millions.

This critical infrastructure must be repaired and fast, because if farming is indeed the backbone of NZ, then everyone knows a spine needs a bit of lower lumbar support. Ultimately, fencing is farming’s girdle and without it things just pop out everywhere.

It wasn’t always like that though. The earliest fencing systems used by settlers weren’t for keeping animals in, but to keep beasties out and away from crops, gardens and orchards.

Laws controlling fencing and livestock were passed as early as 1842 when fences were made from posts and rails, stones and living hedges, before the lightweight wire of the 1860s made the process faster and easier.

Further revolutionising farm management were a couple of Kiwi inventions. In the late 1930s,

Bill Gallagher invented the electric fence, while in 1967 Cyclone Wire developed the world’s first deer fence netting – that stuff I was told off for scaling.

But just as fences form an integral part of the country’s farming industry, they remain a mystery to many suburbanites who’ve never had to foot a strainer post, sort a stay assembly or tie off a length of number 8.

Tragically I have, and the resulting limp wires, loose posts and escaped animals left me in no doubt that fencing is both specialised and backbreaking work best left to experts.

Fergus Casey honed his skills during a cadetship at Dannevirke’s Pukemiro Station, then paired up with Cameron Artz to win the 2022 Young Farmers’ national fencing competition by constructing an electric set-up, including posts and strainers, faster and cleaner than other competitors.

Unfortunately for this story, both that win and the wider fencing process is downplayed by the pair who agree that a stupid question is begging for a similar answer. When asked to give

townies some idea of just how hard fencing is, Casey says the more you do, the better you get. He does admit fencing is ‘‘pretty important’’ on farms, while Artz at least says ‘‘you can’t farm without them’’.

That’s undoubtedly the simplest way to put it but, fortunately, I’ve seen the backbreaking work and hard-earned money behind the long lines on Aotearoa’s farms.

They’re only fences, yeah, but when they’re yours they look like wire arteries. Even townies know that.